


Us vs. The World

by LamsLuver



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Civil War hurt my soul in ways i cannot describe, Everything hurts and I wrote this in an hour and now i feel both pain and regret, Iron Dad, Panic Attacks, Peter is team Iron Man, basically Peter is dealing with his dads divorcing and it sucks tits, im not like the nicest to steve but i don't diss him or anything, kinda hurt/comfort, kinda whump, my end notes have infinity war spoilers sooo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-01-31
Packaged: 2019-10-19 18:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17606915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LamsLuver/pseuds/LamsLuver
Summary: Sometimes, it's just Tony and Peter against the world.-Tony and Steve's disastrous divorce leaves Peter's dad a shattered, empty mess and Peter feels like it's just him against a cruel world.





	Us vs. The World

**Author's Note:**

> I got an idea and actual writing inspiration so I frantically wrote this while it lasted. I have no concept of time and all I feel is pain. Enjoy!  
> (scream with me @normalwithadashofinsane on tumblr)

The divorce was messy.   
Most couples just got into heated arguments, at worst breaking a few dishes as heartbroken children huddled in their bedroom trying to block out the noise.   
Those heartbroken children weren't sent off to fight one of their dads at an airport, never felt something inside them break as their Pops slammed his fist into his Dad's chest, seeing something viscerally angry and cruel in their fight, never saw their dad stumble into the kitchen three days after the confrontation with countless bruises and a haunted, empty look in his eyes.   
Peter only knew so much. There were certain accords blah blah blah and Dad wanted to sign it because blah blah blah but Pops didn't because blah blah blah. Whenever they sat him down to tell him what was going on, Dad kept his jaw clenched the entire time and Pops refused to even look in his husband's direction. Peter felt something curl in the pit of his stomach but just nodded along, gaze switching back and forth, not really paying attention.  
There was no screaming. No yelling in the house. Just silence. Sharp, deadly silence that set Peter on edge and made him feel like a lost, scared little boy. Some sort of premonition, maybe his Spider sense or his crippling anxiety, kept telling him at one point he was going to have to choose: Dad or Pops. Pops or Dad.   
When push came to shove, who would he be with?   
He spent hours at night tossing and turning, refusing to answer the question. Dad or Pops. Pops or Dad. Dad or Pops or Dad or Pops or Dad-  
He had countless nightmares of one of them dying or both of them dying or one of them killing each other and soon dark bags started forming under his eyes as he traded sleep for learning absolutely useless skills, like learning to tie a clove hitch knot or harness the energy of the sun.   
And then Dad came into his room one day and told him to suit up. He didn't say where they were going and he looked...not quite angry, but something else. Hurt. Pained. Livid. Sorrowful.   
Somehow, Peter knew. He felt it. Push was coming to shove and he was going to make his choice. Something inside him hardened and he felt himself coming to a crossroads, but somehow, somehow, he felt he had always known the answer. It wasn't a struggle of who to pick, it was a struggle with how to live with his decision.   
He had to support his Dad.   
They didn't talk on the airplane ride there.  
When they landed, Peter was instructed to stay out of the way and not get hurt, Tony going up to Steve with Rhodey by his side.   
After the relatively short part of the fight he was in, Peter went back on a plane with Uncle Rhodey not even knowing his dad was in Siberia until a practically hypothermic Tony trudged into the living room.   
Ever since, there was a lonely tension in their house. Peter's dad never slept, hardly ate, and always was staring into space as his left hand starting shaking. Everytime Peter tried to confront him, to get information, to just asking how he was doing, if he was okay, Tony brushed it off.   
"I'm fine," he'd snap, before returning to whatever project he was working on. Peter wanted to scream. I'm trying to help you, goddamnit!   
But he stayed silent.   
And at night, when the house was deathly still, he could hear Tony crying in his parents'-parent's-bedroom and his heart ached and longed for Pops to come back. He wanted to wake up to Dad and Pops exchanging banter in the kitchen as Pops made pancakes and scolded Dad for his copious intake of caffeine. He wanted Dad to tease Peter's sleepy gaze and messed up curls and Pops to give him a cheesy morning hug and jokingly but not so jokingly say, "I love you so much, my sweetest, dearest, most handsomest angel!"   
He wanted his Pops back.  
But as the hot tears dripped down his face, he came to one stark realization:  
Pops was never coming back.   
-  
It was a few weeks into spring when Peter finally found out.   
He'd walked into the lab after school, dropping his backpack onto the floor, when he heard it. A gasping, choked sob.   
Dad.  
Peter ran over to Tony, who was huddled over a table and clutching the end of it for dear life. His knuckles were white and his breath was short and unsteady, sounding more like short pants than normal breaths. Peter immediately scooped his dad up in a tight hug.   
"Dad." Tony wrapped his arm around Peter, gripping his shirt. "Dad, it's okay. You're okay." Tony inhaled shakily next to Peter's ear as his son gripped him into a tighter hug. "It's okay," Peter whispered, holding on as tight as he could. "You're okay."   
After seconds, minutes, hours, of Tony shaking in his son's arms, he finally slumped against Peter. The young boy just clung onto his dad, feeling afraid to let go. They stayed there in silence, clinging onto each other when Peter finally spoke up.  
In barely a whisper, he asked, "What happened?"   
And Tony broke.   
Tony gripped onto his son and broke and told him everything, every goddamn thing about how his father kept a gruesome secret from him, that he knew his best friend killed his mom, about the anger, vile and vehement, that overtook him when he started firing, how Steve's face look when he blasted Bucky's arm off, how Steve, his father, looked as he slammed his shield down into the arc reactor again and again and again and again-  
Tony took a breath and slumped down onto his son. He knew in his heart he was supposed to protect his kid, not the other way around, but he was so goddamn tired. Every part of his body, his mind, his soul, ached and the only thing, the only goddamn thing that soothes those pains, that made his shitty shitty life tolerable was Peter's warm hugs. Peter was the only thing that kept him from breaking into the alcohol and chugging away his feeling.   
They didn't let go of each other.   
They wouldn't let go of each other.  
They just clung to each other, tight enough to cut off circulation, and let silence, something Peter had become rather accustomed too, hang in the air.   
"I love you," Peter blurted. The words were sudden and seemed jarringly loud, but they were true. Peter didn't regret choosing his dad. He didn't regret staying here. He was grateful, honest to God grateful, because he and his dad always clung onto each other, even when Peter was just days old. They were connected in such an intimate, familiar way that Peter genuinely couldn't bear to imagine living without him.   
There was a pause before Tony repeated the words.  
"I love you too." They were firm and strong, unlike the broken gasps of a broken man Peter heard just minutes before. They were unwavering in their belief.   
Peter remembered when it was him and Dad and Pops and Natasha and Rhodey and Clint and Loki and Thor and Bruce and Pepper against the world. And then it turned to just him and Dad and Pops against the world and he felt like he would never let them go, ever.   
For the past weeks, Peter felt like it was just him. Just him against the world.  
But he was wrong. So very, very wrong.   
Because his dad would never abandon him. His dad was a constant in his life and even when Pops and him yelled and even when Pops hurt Tony and when Pops ran away to who knows where, Tony and Peter clung together. There was no Dad and Pops and Peter anymore.   
But there still was Peter and Tony. Dad and Peter.   
And they intended to keep it that way.

**Author's Note:**

> hahahaha i think i mean there is just tony and peter until peter literally turns to ash in tony's arms and then it really is just tony against the world :):):):):):):):)  
> yell at me for making that joke @normalwithadashofinsane on the tumblr


End file.
